the following is intended for amusement only. And is not intended to be a 'canon' WW or DW story, merely a 6-in-the-bloody-AM-plotbunny-won't-leave-me-alone story.
__________________
So now I'm mostly retired. Instead of power armor and bank heists, I run one of the damndest meat counters you'll find in this New York city. I've always loved NY, you know, and now I guess I'm seeing a different part of it.
I'm not even mad at the Warriors. That Loon guy, he's alright. Was one of the bigwigs behind the loans that got me this place. I even shook his hand once. Good guy.
I can still remember though, laying in the Park on that cheerful sunny day.. Man, what a weird day for a bank heist, I shoulda picked one that was more gloomy..
*shakes head*
ANYway, I'm layin' in the middle of the Park feeling my armor melt off me, just melt off me like I'm the Amazing Butterman and it's a buck-twenty in the shade, and that damn music.. the music...
Like I said, I'm mostly retired. Every now and then I plan a heist, just in my mind, ya know.. just to keep in form. I gotta admit, I'm sleeping better now.
*slaps enormous belly*
And I'm definetly eating alright! That's one thing they don't tells you, crime pays damn good, but it tends to have "irregular" schedules, you know what I mean?
So yeah. _My_ life of crime is over. But I still have that one golden memory from 'After', to keep me warm at night, ya know? See, I punched that Andrew Eldritch.. I punched him right in the face!
*stares of into the distance smiling happily for a moment, then goes back to work.*
--- Kokuten Daysleeper, Retired Epicced Officered DorfWire Geek - Burning the weak and trampling the dead since 1979

This is a resurrection of a thread that I believe the Hacker destroyed -- Shayne and I started trading bits and pieces of our characters jointly teaching a DADA class at Hogwarts. I lost the spark for a while, and it stalled until it was wiped, but by chance I kept a local copy, which I'm now reposting in the hopes that we can start this thread up again.

Rather than risk the delivery problems we seem to be running into this week, I decided to post here. Don't worry, take your time, and get to the material when you can. I'll write on ahead -- if it's usable, great, if not, I'll stash it against future need.

-- Bob
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It's a "magical" land. I think "magical" is ancient Greek for "pain in the butt". -- Bun-Bun, Sluggy Freelance, 11/9/03

Baen Webscriptions have updated, finally :-)
They seem to be getting later and later during the month :-(

Oh, deedle-dee, three tots are we,
And we're as clever as can be.
We live with Grandma Ida
And our dear old Grandpa Ned.
And little Baby Mike (the brat)
And don't forget the Siamese cat
And in the attic from Detroit is big fat Uncle Fred.
Oh, Grandpa wishes he were rich
And Grandma just complains (the bitch)
And Uncle Fred sits drunk in bed.
Mike cries all night and day.
The cat thinks that he owns the place.
He bites and scratches on the face.
It'd be so nice if they all went away.
Away! Away! Away-dee-daydee-daydee-daydee-daydee-daydee-day!
The cat is dead! The cat is dead!
I went to pat him on the head.
He didn't purr, he didn't meow.
He didn't blink or sniff.
He seemed to have a funny smile
That made me laugh but all the while
The tail that used to flip and flop got awful cold and stiff.
We chopped him into little bits
And seasoned him with apple bits.
And with some dust,
We made a crust
And put him in a pie.
Into the oven he did slip
Until the crust was nice and crisp.
I'll love that little kitty 'til I die.
I die! I didee-didee-didee-didee-didee-didee-die!
The cat is dead! The cat is dead!
And Mikey too and Uncle Fred,
Expiring all so suddenly
While sipping down some tea.
The tea was hot,
The tea was nice,
With strychnine and a little spice
To cover up the funny taste of our conspiracy.
When Grandpa saw what we had done
He went straight for his hunting gun.
But we were quick, we stole the clip.
The rest is history.
To make sure Grandma wouldn't flee,
We gave her a lobotomy,
And now she's just as happy as can be.
Can be! Can beedle-deedle-deedle-deedle-deedle-deedle-dee!
The cat is dead! The cat is dead!
I went to pat him on the head.
He didn't purr, he didn't meow.
He didn't blink or sniff.
He seemed to have a funny smile
That made me laugh but all the while
The tail that used to flip and flop got awful cold and stiff.
We chopped him into little bits
And seasoned him with apple bits.
And with some dust,
We made a crust
And put him in a pie.
Into the oven he did slip
Until the crust was nice and crisp.
I'll love that little kitty 'til I die.
I die! I didee-didee-didee-didee-didee-didee-die!
-- The Mystic Knights of the Oingo Boingo, The Cat Is Dead
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

I just realized that I don't have an area here for any non-DW fics I might write. I'm going to have to take care of that soon.
In the mean time, here's a little bit of something that I've been playing around with in my head for a few months, and which I've started slowly putting down in text. I'll be honest -- this is all that's written so far, and I may never get past this point with all the other things on my plate. But I thought I'd throw it out and see if it intrigues anyone. It has a title, but I don't want to reveal it at the moment. I will say that it is a post-HBP Harry Potter story.
Enjoy.
-- Bob

...that was mentioned some time back.
I can't find it in any of the threads I've searched, so
I suspect it vanished in a forum crash.
The fic in question had an organization known as
T.I.C.K.L.E., and either they or some other group
of bad guys were trying to get Harry and Hermione
together.
That's all I can remember. Any assistance will be
greatly appreciated.
-z

She asks me why,
I'm just a hairy guy.
She asks me why,
I'm just a hairy guy.
I'm hairy noon and night,
Hair that's a fright.
I'm hairy high and low,
Don't ask me why, don't know.
It's not for lack of bread, like the Grateful Dead, darlin',
Give me a head with hair,
Long beautiful hair,
Shining, gleaming, steaming, flaxen, waxen,
Give me down to there hair,
Shoulder length or longer,
Here, baby, there, momma, ev'rywhere, daddy, daddy,
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair.
Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my hair.
I let it fly in the breeze and get caught in the trees,
Give a home to the fleas in my hair,
A home for fleas (yeah)
A hive for bees (yeah)
A nest for birds,
There ain't no words for the beauty, the splendor,
The wonder of my
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair.
Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my hair.
I want it long, straight, curly, fuzzy,
Snaggy, shaggy, ratty, matty,
Oily, greasy, fleecy, shining,
Gleaming, steaming, flaxen, waxen,
Knotted, polka dotted, twisted, beaded, braided,
Powdered, flowered and confettied,
Bangled, tangled, spangled and spaghettied.
Oh say, can you see my eyes?
If you can then my hair's too short.
Down to here, down to there,
Down to there, down to where it stops by itself.
They'll be ga ga at the go go when they see me in my toga,
My toga made of blond, brilliantined, biblical hair.
My hair like Jesus wore it,
Hallelujah, I adore it,
Hallelujah; Mary loved her son, why don't my mother love me?
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair.
Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair.
Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair.
Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my hair.
Hair that's a fright.
I'm hairy high and low,
Don't ask me why, don't know.
It's not for lack of bread, like the Grateful Dead, darlin',
Give me a head with hair,
Long beautiful hair,
Shining, gleaming, steaming, flaxen, waxen,
Give me down to there hair,
Shoulder length or longer,
Here, baby, there, momma, ev'rywhere, daddy, daddy,
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair.
Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my hair.
I let it fly in the breeze and get caught in the trees,
Give a home to the fleas in my hair,
A home for fleas (yeah)
A hive for bees (yeah)
A nest for birds,
There ain't no words for the beauty, the splendor,
The wonder of my
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair.
Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my hair.
I want it long, straight, curly, fuzzy,
Snaggy, shaggy, ratty, matty,
Oily, greasy, fleecy, shining,
Gleaming, steaming, flaxen, waxen,
Knotted, polka dotted, twisted, beaded, braided,
Powdered, flowered and confettied,
Bangled, tangled, spangled and spaghettied.
Oh say, can you see my eyes?
If you can then my hair's too short.
Down to here, down to there,
Down to there, down to where it stops by itself.
They'll be ga ga at the go go when they see me in my toga,
My toga made of blond, brilliantined, biblical hair.
My hair like Jesus wore it,
Hallelujah, I adore it,
Hallelujah; Mary loved her son, why don't my mother love me?
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair.
Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair.
Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair.
Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my hair.
Hair, from the musical Hair
Another "utility" song, this one grows a full head of hair (shoulder length or longer) on everyone in the area of effect.
This is most useful for people recovering from chemotherapy, of course.
It also has the combat effect of (a) making helmets no longer fit properly, and (b) obscuring everyone's vision. ("Oh say, can you see my eyes? If you can then my hair's too short.") It also pisses off anyone who thinks men shouldn't wear their hair longer than a crewcut, as they suddenly have at least a shoulder-length bob...
-Rob Kelk
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

This just won't leave me alone. I came up with it while making dog biscuits today:
Hermione as a closet Counter-Strike junkie. I can just see her standing over a Death Eater's corpse and saying "J00 D34d, F00."
If someone wants to take this and run with it, be my guest. I do, however, reserve the right to use it myself some day.
-W, who has way too much time to think."Ah, great. More androids." "We're not androids, we're the Knight Sabers!" "Huh. Frederick's of Hollywood has a line of power armor out. Who knew?"Falling out of aeroplanes and hiding out in holes

Waiting for the sunset to come, people going home

Jump out from behind them and shoot them in the head

Now everybody dancing the dance of the dead

Good morning, Starshine,
The earth says hello.
You twinkle above us,
We twinkle below.
Good morning, Starshine,
You lead us along.
My love and me as we sing
Our early morning singing song.
Gliddy gloop gloopy
Nibby nabby noopy
La la la lo lo
Sabba sibby sabba
Nooby abba nabba
Le le lo lo
Dooby ooby walla
Nooby abba naba
Early morning singing song
Good morning, Starshine,
The earth says hello.
You twinkle above us,
We twinkle below.
Good morning, Starshine,
You lead us along.
My love and me as we sing
Our early morning singing song.
Gliddy gloop gloopy
Nibby nabby noopy
La la la lo lo
Sabba sibby sabba
Nooby abba nabba
Le le lo lo
Dooby ooby walla
Nooby abba naba
Early morning singing song
Good morning, Starshine,
There's love in your skies,
Reflecting the sunlight
In my lover's eyes.
Good morning, Starshine,
So happy to be
My love and me as we sing
Our early morning singing song...
Gliddy gloop gloopy
Nibby nabby noopy
La la la lo lo
Sabba sibby sabba
Nooby abba nabba
Le le lo lo
Dooby ooby walla
Nooby abba naba
Early morning singing song
Singing a song
Humming a song
Singing a song
Loving a song
Laughing a song
Singing a song
Sing the song
Song song song sing
Sing sing sing sing song
-- Donovan, Good Morning, Starshine (from the musical Hair)

-- Bob
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It's a "magical" land. I think "magical" is ancient Greek for "pain in the butt". -- Bun-Bun, Sluggy Freelance, 11/9/03